


There Have Been Several Mistakes

by fictionalverity



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Chidi is SO CONFUSED, F/F, and vice versa, anyway these two need to kiss already, canon-typical alcohol use, canon-typical terrible parents, one of the attempts, vulnerable Tahani is Eleanor's kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13244574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalverity/pseuds/fictionalverity
Summary: In the Good Place, but lacking a soulmate, Tahani attends a party and then throws a much better party of her own.





	1. Chapter 1

"I do have to tell you that there's been a mistake," Michael said.

"A mistake? Whatever do you mean?" Tahani covered her nerves with her very best cocktail-party laugh. "Something minor, I'm sure."

Perhaps the frozen yogurt shop they had just passed was meant to be something else. For example, anything besides yet another frozen yogurt shop.

"Not exactly," the Architect said, unsmiling. "First, you should know that you just barely got into the Good Place."

The social graces that had made Tahani the toast of six world capitals deserted her completely. "What?"

"As I've said, we determine who belongs here using a point system. Compared to all of humanity, sure, you're near the top. But in this neighborhood, you're ranked at the absolute bottom."

Relief swept through Tahani. "You're right, that has to be a mistake. I should at least be in the middle somewhere." She didn't want to seem _vain_.

"No, our rankings are absolutely accurate," Michael said. "It's just... oh, look, End Whirled Hunger has new flavors! Do you mind if we go in?"

"Please just tell me what the mistake is." The last time Tahani's voice had sounded that small, she had been talking to her parents. The thought did her churning stomach no favors.

"Right. Your soulmate, Chidi Anagonye, has almost the same number of points as you do, but he was even closer to the line. The Bad Place seems to have claimed him by mistake."

"How is that even possible? And who made such a colossal error? I demand to speak to their supervisor!" Heads turned, and not in the way she liked. Perhaps Tahani was shouting, but if anything was worth raising one's voice, this was.

"Not a good idea," Michael said, with such quiet force that Tahani instinctively believed him. In a more normal tone, he went on, "You don't need to worry, though, because it isn't permanent in the least. We'll have Chidi here before you know it. In the meantime, you can get to know the rest of the neighborhood at the Welcome Party tonight! Won't that be fun?"

"I do like parties," Tahani said. Of course, she would be the only person there without a soulmate, or indeed anyone she knew. (A memory like a bad dream threatened to surface, with crowd noise and gleaming gold and her sister's smirking face, then vanished again.) But if there was one thing Tahani was really good at—there were actually seventy-two things, but as a figure of speech—it was making friends. And so what if she was by herself? She would just seem all the more interesting. How bad could it be?

* * *

The Welcome Party was _awful_.

Tahani's lack of a soulmate didn't provoke interest in the other guests, just confusion and pity. No one wanted to talk to her for long. The food was frozen yogurt _again_ , and every time she reached for her phone, she felt its absence. Death had sundered her forever from her 16.8 million followers on Instagram.

Not that she particularly wanted to take pictures. The hostess's decorations displayed an utter lack of taste, and not even in an amusing way.

Worst of all, while she was a pariah, someone else was the star of the evening: a tiny American woman named Eleanor Shellstrop, wearing a little black dress and a sash that said "Best Person." She had more points than anyone else in the neighborhood. Pictures of the smiling, impoverished children Eleanor had supposedly helped were rotating on a screen above the bar. The hostess had made a PowerPoint, as though this was a retirement party for an office manager and not a gathering for the brightest stars in the human race. Tahani couldn't bear it.

The pictures quite honestly looked like run-of-the-mill voluntourism to Tahani. Maybe there had been more mistakes than Michael realized. But no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. The guests flocked to Eleanor, who seemed uncomfortable with the attention. She always changed the subject when asked about her own accomplishments, giving the impression that she was too pure to want anything as selfish as praise, which only made the others want to talk to her more.

And of course Eleanor was beautiful, awkwardness and all, like a blonde fairy princess who had been sent to a room of humans by accident. Even her American accent was adorable, which Tahani frankly hadn't thought was possible. (Canadian accents were almost as bad. Half the reason Tahani had made out with Ryan Gosling so many times was so that he would _stop talking_.)

As the evening went on, Tahani noticed that Eleanor was drinking quite a bit. Maybe her discomfort was genuine after all.

Oh, how Tahani hated her.

The last resort of the friendless at large parties—assuming the host or hostess had utterly failed at their duty to ensure that no one was without a conversational partner, which tonight's hostess obviously had—was to look for someone else who was standing by themselves and approach them. But that was no good. Everyone had a soulmate. No one else was alone at all. Just Tahani.

Finally, Tahani spied someone else without a soulmate by his side, an East Asian man in the robes of a monk who was communicating with Janet in an increasingly enthusiastic pantomime. Janet manifested a plate of jalapeño poppers and offered it to the monk, who threw up his hands as though he had won the lottery. Truly, life was a rich tapestry.

Tahani was on her way over to introduce herself when Michael tapped a glass with a spoon. "May I have everyone's attention, please! It's time for the moment you've all been waiting for: the guest of honor, Eleanor Shellstrop, will give a speech!"

Tahani was close enough to hear Michael say more quietly, "It's time for your speech, Eleanor."

"Muh wha' now?" Eleanor said. Good God, the woman was drunk.

"Your speech! Just say what's in your heart. You'll do great." Michael closed Eleanor's hand around a microphone and gently pushed her onto a small stage.

"Hi," Eleanor said.

Tahani sniffed. The other guests chuckled as if Eleanor had said something witty. Who _were_ these people?

After a long pause, Eleanor continued, "Everyone here ish great. You're all so forking good, with the helping and shirt."

Eleanor's soulmate, Calvin, stepped onto the stage and took the microphone. "What Eleanor is trying to say—"

But Eleanor was not having it. "Don't talk over me, mashbowl!" she snarled. She grabbed the microphone and threw it as hard as she could. A shriek of feedback echoed from the far corner of the room, followed by the unmistakable whine of an injured dog.

"Teacup!" the hostess wailed, and ran to see to her puppy.

"Okay, the party's over," Michael said. With slumping shoulders, the Architect directed the guests toward the door. He had told the group that this was his first neighborhood, and no bloody wonder.

Eleanor "Best Person" Shellstrop, who had cracked under the tiniest pressure, was now red-faced with alcohol and humiliation. Tahani was much too well-bred to overstay her welcome, but she was very sorry to go.

* * *

The Good Place didn't have hangovers, which should have been a good thing, but Eleanor had never truly appreciated a hangover's silver linings before. Back on Earth, when she had a hangover, her first thoughts on waking up were about symptom control: settling her stomach, taking something for her headache, and "borrowing" a trashy magazine from the building's leasing office. She didn't have to think about the previous night at all until after she had read all about the latest celebrity disasters. And sometimes, she couldn't even remember what had happened.

She could remember last night, all right. Every terrible detail was right there. "Ugh," Eleanor said, and flopped back down onto the bed.

At a knock on her door, she pulled on pajama pants and went to get it. Calvin stood there with a tray of food. "I brought pancakes and coffee. Thought you might need them." Her soulmate wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he did have a really nice smile.

Eleanor didn't really want to hang out with him, but she did want the coffee. _Ugh._ "Well, come on in."

After breakfast, they went for a walk. Calvin took her hand, and Eleanor promptly disengaged. "I'm not really into that."

Calvin's brow furrowed adorably. "So what are you into?"

 _Stone Cold Steve Austin._ "You really want to know? Honestly, I'm surprised you even showed up after last night." She couldn't even play the "it's all a blur" card. _Ugh!_

Calvin just shrugged. "You got drunk. It won't happen again, right?"

"Definitely not!" Eleanor chirped, and inwardly wanted to die. Was there a post-afterlife? And if so, was it any less of a total drag?

Near the center of town, a gorgeous woman with long black hair and a pale pink dress that somehow flowed was handing out small envelopes sealed with red wax to anyone who passed by. "Hello!" she said to Eleanor and Calvin. "I'm having a party tonight and the whole neighborhood is invited. I do hope you'll come."

Eleanor took an invitation. The paper was heavy, cream-colored, and every bit as ridiculous as the woman's British accent. When she opened it, the pretentiousness intensified. _You are cordially invited to a soiree at the home of Tahani Al-Jamil_ , blah blah blah, and did everyone in the Good Place write their invitations by hand in flawless calligraphy? Who _were_ these people?

She pointed at the most interesting line on the invitation: _refreshments will be served_. "What kind of food are we talking, here?"

Tahani rattled off a list that Eleanor swore was half in French. Once the word "shrimp" popped up, Eleanor cut her off. "Say no more. We'll be there."

"Wonderful," Tahani said. Was it just Eleanor, or did her smile seem a little strained?

As they walked away, Calvin nudged her. "Do we have to go to this thing?"

Two words: free shrimp. "What, do you have somewhere better to be?"

"If you'll be there, then I guess not," Calvin said.

Wow. This dude really liked her. "Calvin, would you still like me no matter what I told you about myself? Even if I said something really crazy?" She had to tell someone the truth, and who better than her soulmate?

Calvin gazed at her with wide, earnest eyes. "You're the best person in the whole neighborhood. How could I not like you?"

Not her soulmate. The real Eleanor's.

Eleanor forced a smile. "No idea, buddy. No idea."

She went on another interminable stroll with Calvin and then ate dinner with him. She needed to figure out how to act like a good person, which meant watching how a good person did things, and clearly Calvin was too trusting to realize what she was doing.

But after a whole afternoon of hanging out with Calvin, Eleanor couldn't actually figure out what she needed to do differently. He said stuff like "thank you" and remembered people's names, but did anyone actually care about that? And just that morning, she had invited him to bring the pancakes inside instead of just taking the food. Maybe she had this under control.

After dinner, she was relaxed enough that when Calvin took her hand and pulled her gently toward her bedroom, she went with it. If she closed her eyes when she kissed him, she could almost forget about the clown paintings watching them from the walls.

But when Calvin got down to what he apparently thought was business, the clowns were the least of Eleanor's problems. She scooted to the edge of the bed, putting as much space between her and her "soulmate" as possible. "What the fork was that?"

"Um," Calvin said. "Foreplay?"

"If you're a space alien, then sure!" And not a hot alien. One of the three-foot-tall rubbery gray ones.

"I'm not an alien," Calvin said, hanging his head. "And you're a real jerk, Eleanor Shellstrop."

 _Act good, act good, act good_ , part of her chanted. The other part punched the first part in the boob. "Get the fork out of my house." Calvin blinked at her. "Now, dipshirt."

He went.

Eleanor groaned. Calvin wasn't a genius, but he wasn't a complete idiot, either. He was going to figure out she didn't belong here, and then her hours in the Good Place would be numbered.

She could still go to Tahani's party. Sure, she was about to be tortured for the rest of eternity, but there was never a wrong time to stuff her face with someone else's food.

* * *

For half an hour after the appointed time of 8pm, Tahani waited patiently on the sofa in her largest parlor. Her posture was impeccable; her legs were crossed correctly at the ankles. Even though no one was there yet to see her, getting into the right mindset would make her a better hostess when guests started to arrive. It was like meditating, or warming up before a marathon.

When the half-hour was up, Tahani channeled her growing restlessness into double-checking all her preparations: vases of fresh flowers in all rooms, check. Tasteful streamers and balloons in the foyer, check. Trays of hors d'oeuvres in the current parlor and the dining room, double check.

At 8:45pm, the guests still hadn't arrived. No one at all had knocked on her door. In a moment of shameful weakness, Tahani contemplated summoning Janet.

She resisted that temptation, but gave way to the next, and picked up two squares of carrot tart from the nearest tray. Yes, she had carefully arranged the tray to be aesthetically pleasing, but what did it matter if no one was there to see it?

That last thought broke Tahani's composure, and then she was well and truly crying. Fortunately, no one was there to see that, either.

"Hello?"

Even before Tahani looked up, she knew that voice. Female, American, adorable… _oh, no._

"The door was open," Eleanor Shellstrop added.

Tahani should put on a smile, pull herself together, and go greet her guest. But she had thought being in the Good Place meant she wouldn't have to pull herself together anymore.

Bother. Now her crying had squeaky little sobs mixed in.

"Hey," Eleanor said. The woman's voice was impossibly gentle. "Your house looks amazing. I don't know why no one else is here to see it, but it's their forking loss, okay?"

"You're here because you feel sorry for me," Tahani said through her tears. "You're here to be _nice_."

"Actually, I'm here to eat literally all the food you mentioned," Eleanor said, "and I think you should have some, too." Tahani couldn't find it in herself to argue, and soon they were sitting together on her sofa, each with a full plate of hors d'oeuvres. (It did not escape Tahani's notice that Eleanor's plate was almost entirely covered in shrimp, with the remainder given over to cocktail sauce.)

Eating pepper jelly and goat cheese flatbread restored some of Tahani's good humor. "So, Eleanor… apart from giving out invitations, I've been preparing for the party all day. Did I miss anything exciting happening elsewhere in the neighborhood?"

"Not really. I spent most of the day with Calvin." Eleanor grimaced when she said her soulmate's name—and, of course, she had come to the party alone.

Tahani chose her words carefully. "My soulmate hasn't arrived in the Good Place yet. I have to admit, I'm curious about what it's like. How are you and Calvin getting on?"

"We're getting along fine," Eleanor said. She immediately stuffed an overabundance of shrimp into her mouth and chewed for a very long time, occasionally pulling out a tail. It was quite disgusting, really.

But Tahani was patient. "Just 'fine'?" she said when Eleanor swallowed. "Surely it's better than that." Eleanor hesitated. "Whatever's going on, you can tell me. On Earth, the tabloids positively hounded me for dirt on my best friend, Beyoncé, and I never gave them a thing."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Did you have dirt?"

Tahani said nothing, her countenance serene.

After a moment, Eleanor seemed to concede the point. "If you knew something secret about me, would you keep it to yourself? No matter what it was? I know I'm not Beyoncé, but…"

Dirt on Eleanor Shellstrop, the anointed Best Person of the neighborhood? Tahani would keep it to herself until the end of time, just for the pleasure of knowing it. "Well, you are my best friend here in the Good Place." She refused to dwell on how sad it was that this was true. "You can count on me."

"Okay." Eleanor took a deep breath. "I don't belong here. My name is really Eleanor Shellstrop, but I didn't do anything that Michael thinks I did. Not that I was a bad person, but I was definitely very medium."

"So if Michael finds out who you really are, you'll have to go to a different neighborhood?"

"You could say that," Eleanor said, and pointed downward.

"Oh!" This was much worse than anything Tahani knew about Beyoncé. "Are you sure? Shouldn't there be some sort of Medium Place that Michael could send you to instead?"

Eleanor threw up her hands. "That's what I said!"

Even if this Eleanor deserved the Good Place less than the "Best Person" version, Tahani liked the woman in front of her much more. "Surely there must be something we can do."

"I've got a plan," Eleanor said. "Fake it till you make it. If I can pretend to be a good person long enough to figure out how to actually be a good person, maybe when Michael finds out what happened, he'll let me stay."

"Have you told Calvin?" It seemed a bit unfair that this plan would keep Calvin apart from his true soulmate.

"Fork, no." Eleanor launched into a detailed explanation of how dim her supposed soulmate was, and how spectacularly terrible in bed.

By the end, Tahani felt as though her hands would never again uncover her face. "He did _not_."

"Oh, but he did," Eleanor said, with the grim satisfaction that always accompanied the very best gossip.

"All right, you've convinced me," Tahani said. "It's just us girls. And of course I'll help you."

"Thanks." Eleanor paused. "Listen, could you tell me something about yourself? All I know is that you're smoking hot, you got into the Good Place _not_ by accident, and you're an amazing cook. It feels a little lopsided, is what I'm saying."

"You haven't eaten anything except the fair-trade shrimp cocktail," Tahani said. Eleanor didn't say anything, just gazed at her with huge, plaintive blue eyes. "Oh, all right, then."

What could she say? She could tell Eleanor about her low ranking in the neighborhood, but her feelings about being in last place didn't compare to Eleanor's predicament. A memory that she hadn't thought much about in a long time came to mind, and Tahani went with it. "When I was fifteen, I realized that I didn't just like men. Romantically, I mean. I didn't like the idea of telling my parents, and I decided to keep it to myself for a while. If I found a man I liked, it wouldn't have to ever be an issue. But then Kamilah announced that she's pansexual, because _of course_ she did—"

"Who's Kamilah?" Eleanor said.

Tahani had never known that a sentence containing her sister's name could be so beautiful.

Eleanor blinked. "What, am I supposed to know this?"

Instinctively, Tahani reached for Eleanor's hand. "No, no, it's quite all right. It's just that no one has ever said that to me before."

Eleanor's fingers wrapped around Tahani's own. "Okay, so this Kamilah person came out as pan…"

"Our parents were so proud. They said it was really brave of Kamilah to tell them. So I thought it might be all right to say something. After Kamilah went back to her studio, I got our mother alone and said, 'If I also were not entirely straight…'"

Tahani still hated to think about the next part.

"What did she say?" Eleanor prompted.

"She didn't even let me finish the sentence. She tsked at me! Actually tsked! And then she said, 'Really, Tahani, let Kamilah have her moment.' Even though Kamilah's moment was the entire rest of our lives."

"Holy shirt," Eleanor said. "Your parents were awful."

"I'll drink to that," Tahani said.

"But we don't have drinks," Eleanor said with a sly smile.

"Then I'll get some."

"White wine?"

"Naturally."

Tahani opened a bottle of her favorite white wine and brought back two glasses, which she and Eleanor duly clinked. "Did you ever tell anyone else?" Eleanor said.

"Once, when my good friend Cara needed a listening ear and I wanted her to know I understood," Tahani said. She was sure she'd gotten points for that episode. "And sometimes it was implied."

"I'm glad you told me," Eleanor said, with a most peculiar catch in her voice.

Tahani felt a bit caught, herself. "Would you like me to also imply it?"

Eleanor kissed her once on the lips, then pulled away as though to gauge her reaction. Tahani could see her own feelings mirrored on Eleanor's lovely face: pupils wide, face flushed, breathing just a bit faster than before. "I'll take that as a yes," she murmured, and pulled Eleanor close.

How had she not realized how perfectly Eleanor would fit in her arms? But the small, soft noise Eleanor made as Tahani kissed her neck… that was something Tahani could not have imagined in advance.

A thought tugged at Tahani's conscience. She pulled away. "I do hope this is all right. If you feel like you're a placeholder..." She didn't know how she would feel about Chidi when he arrived, but she did know she cared for Eleanor. If her soulmate was truly hers, they would work something out. "Well, you're not."

Tahani had never known that humans could purr, but Eleanor managed it: "Sweet-lips, you can hold me any place you want."

* * *

Much later, Tahani stretched out in her bed, tired but content. Next to her, Eleanor was smiling. "You are so much better at this than Calvin."

"That's exactly what my good friend Taylor said," Tahani mused. She felt so much more like herself. "I can hardly see this Calvin as anyone's soulmate. I mean, really, who would even like him?"

"Oh, shirt," Eleanor said, her voice low with delight. "What if the real Eleanor is a mistake, too?"

They burst out laughing. Tahani couldn't contain herself until Eleanor kissed her again, which was more than sufficient motivation.

* * *

At the end of Calvin's report, the Eleanor vein appeared on Michael's forehead. A new, never-before-seen muscle twitched in the Architect's jaw. " _What._ "

"It's a good thing you put all those windows on Tahani's house." The flattery helped neither the vein nor the twitching, so Calvin changed tack. "Look, I did the best I could to keep Eleanor away from the party. It's just that the way I thought of didn't work."

"And whose fault is that?" Michael snapped.

Calvin was pretty sure it wasn't his. "How was I supposed to know that human sex is different? It wasn't in the training packet."

"I'll have to put it in the next draft." The look on Michael's face almost always meant impending overtime. "But you know what? I think I can work with this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Chidi's arrival, Eleanor's childhood, and Tahani's last-ditch plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With help from a mysterious stranger, Chidi joins Eleanor and Tahani in the Good Place. Tahani is excited to meet her soulmate, but not exactly for the reasons Eleanor thinks.

Like many other terrible things, Chidi Anagonye's hell started with an introductory video. A slouching white woman with short black hair looked directly into the camera. "You're dead. You sucked nuts, so you're in the Bad Place now. Have fun! Or, like, don't."

That was it. An eternity of pain, with all the metaphysical and theological implications that entailed, and Chidi got three sentences and one fragment.

"Excuse me," Chidi said to a dark-haired woman in a leather jacket, who was standing at the front of the room like she belonged there. She was typing something on a cell phone, and he was just going to ignore the apparent existence of cell networks here because _what was happening?_ "Who are you? Do you work here? Is there a question-and-answer session, or a manual, or _anything at all_ that can explain what's going on here?"

"Bad Janet, work is for losers, and _wow_ , you suck," the woman said, and blinked out of existence.

Very quietly and desperately, Chidi said, "What."

The people around him were muttering to each other or themselves—or maybe to deities that might or might not exist, given that anything was possible now and reality had even less meaning than he'd previously thought—and their faces were drawn and scared. So, he wasn't the only one who was confused. That was something, at least.

As if pulled by an invisible string, they all started walking down a wide, dark hallway. At intervals, doors stood closed. One person walked through each of them. Chidi didn't understand that either, until he came to two doors close together that both looked like the door to his office, and he knew.

What would happen if he just kept walking? This hallway was—not nice, exactly, but it wasn't torture. Chidi tried to move on, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't turn around and walk back the way he had come, either. He had to stand in front of the doors, and go through one of them. Instinctively he knew that once he chose a door, there would be no coming back.

Sweat broke out on his forehead. He had to choose a door.

* * *

Four hours later, Chidi was still standing in the now-empty hallway. Upon close examination, the two doors were identical to each other in every way, but they had to each lead somewhere different, or why would there be two doors? And if they led different places, then might one not be slightly better than the other? Therefore, wasn't it worth taking his time to decide, since his choice could have dramatic implications for the entire rest of his possibly eternal afterlife?

His stomach hurt. It hurt so much. It would probably never stop hurting because after all, this was hell.

Behind him, a low, husky man's voice said, "Chidi Anagonye?"

He turned. A man in a head-to-toe Batman costume was standing there, watching Chidi through the eyeholes in his mask. Chidi relaxed by a tiny fraction; probably someone evil wouldn't dress up as Batman. On the other hand, the man's chin was all wrong for the costume—weak and round where Batman's was usually square—and this bothered Chidi on a level he could not explain. "Yes?"

"I'm getting you out of here," the man said.

Chidi's stomach dipped, swirled, pirouetted, and then miraculously wasn't hurting anymore. "What do I need to do?"

"Just follow me."

Chidi could move again. He followed the man back down the hallway. "Who are you?"

"You can call me…"

"Batman?" Chidi guessed.

"No," he said, still in that husky voice. "Trevor."

They went through a door Chidi could have sworn wasn't there the first time around, crept down a long, pitch-black tunnel, and emerged onto a platform where a train was waiting. "This will take you to the Good Place," Trevor said. "And now, I must go."

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?" Chidi said.

Trevor looked him straight in the eyes. "I want you to fully experience all that your new neighborhood has to offer you."

"Okay," Chidi said, nodding. That was easy enough. "I will."

Chidi was the only passenger on the train, which suited him. This day had been strange enough as it was. He really didn't want to deal with other people right now.

Sometime later (he added _figure out how time works here_ to his mental to-do list), the train pulled into a different station. A man with snowy white hair and a startlingly beautiful South Asian woman were waiting on the platform. The woman threw herself into his arms. "Chidi!"

"Do I… know you?" Chidi was almost certain he didn't, but he didn't pull away from her. Whoever this woman was, she gave really, really good hugs.

"Oh! Where are my manners?" She let go of him and held out a hand. "Tahani Al-Jamil, philanthropist."

Chidi shook her hand. "Chidi Anagonye, professor of moral philosophy."

"Welcome to the Good Place, Chidi!" the white-haired man said. "I am so sorry about the mishap earlier today, but very happy to have you here at last. I'm Michael, the Architect of this neighborhood. And Tahani is your soulmate."

" _What_ ," Chidi said. Tahani drew back, eyes wide. "I mean… that's great! I just didn't know soulmates were real." Or hell, or heaven, or people dematerializing in a world where electromagnetism might still be a thing (see: cell phones), or mysterious invisible force fields that made you choose which way you would go to be tortured…

"Think nothing of it, darling," Tahani said, and soulmate or not, clearly she didn't know him yet. "You must have had a perfectly dreadful day. We'll go back to our house and do whatever you like."

He was going to live with Tahani? Already? Now? "Actually, is there a library here?"

"Is there a library?" Michael echoed with a chuckle. "Of course there's a library! Here in the Good Place, we have everything you could possibly need."

For the second time in as many minutes, Tahani's lovely face fell just a bit. "Well, enjoy the library," she said. "I believe I need to take care of some things at home. Would you like to eat dinner together?"

Chidi was still extremely unclear about what was going on, but if Tahani was his soulmate, then he didn't want to make her unhappy. "I'd love to."

"Wonderful! I'll have it ready in an hour."

Before Chidi could figure out how to tell Tahani that he needed three hours of library time at least, she swept away.

"Come on," Michael said. "I'll show you where the library is."

They walked down beautifully kept sidewalks and past restaurants with charmingly awful pun names. Michael didn't seem to be in a hurry, so Chidi said, "Can you explain a bit more about the afterlife? What determines whether someone is allowed into the Good Place?"

"Ah! That would be our infallible point system."

Chidi's capacity for surprise was so overloaded that even this bit of information could not add to it. "And good deeds earn you… points."

"And bad deeds subtract points, yes. Everything you have ever done, said, or thought goes into our algorithm, which calculates with absolute precision whether _you_ are a good person. It's science, and no one can argue with that."

"Actually—"

"Exactly," Michael said, even though Chidi hadn't even started to summarize the most significant critiques of the scientific method.

Chidi took a deep breath. "So, if the Good Place is where I belong"—and if this 'algorithm' was as good as Michael said it was—"why was I sent to the Bad Place at first?"

"There was a dispute over the cutoff point," Michael said. "Naturally, we won, but it was touch and go for a few hours there."

Chidi firmly believed that more truth was always better. Still, he could have done without that last clause.

* * *

Eleanor slumped on her couch with a bowl of frozen yogurt in one hand, trying not to think about Tahani with her perfect soulmate and failing miserably. She had never believed in soulmates. Even when she was a stupid little kid, she wasn't that stupid. But they were real. There really was this one person just for you, and when they looked at you, you _knew_. And at this very moment, the first person Eleanor had actually liked in ages, maybe ever, was looking at someone else. Chidi Ana-something or other.

By definition, Chidi had done more good things than Eleanor ever had. He probably loved people, getting to know them and hearing their stories. He would go to all Tahani's parties, and it wouldn't even be a sacrifice because he would like parties just as much as Tahani did. "See the hostess?" he would say. "That's my soulmate."

He definitely wasn't an Arizona dirtbag.

Tahani burst in through Eleanor's door without knocking. Her entire face was lit up in a way that made Eleanor want to die again. Instead, Eleanor braced herself for soulmate raptures. It was her house, so she could always throw Tahani out if she had to.

"I have a plan," Tahani said.

A surprise party for Chidi, Eleanor guessed. He probably loved surprise parties, too. "A plan for what?"

"To keep you out of the Bad Place!" Tahani seized Eleanor's hands in excitement. "Chidi is a professor of moral philosophy. He can teach you about being a good person! And if you become better…"

"Then maybe I can stay," Eleanor said slowly. It might actually work. But even if it didn't… while meeting her soulmate, Tahani had taken the time to think of a way to help Eleanor. Tahani still cared about her, even with this perfect guy around.

Eleanor hoped she remembered this moment after she had to leave.

"Is Chidi already on board with this?" she said.

"I haven't told him yet. I wanted to ask you first," Tahani said. "He's coming over for dinner in an hour. We can tell him then."

Eleanor didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with this guy, assuming he really could help her. "Won't he want to spend his first night here just with you?"

"Darling, we're saving you from the Bad Place. This can't wait." Tahani headed for the door. "Come on! I have six dishes to cook in the next hour and I need a sous chef."

* * *

Cooking with Tahani was actually pretty fun. Sure, Eleanor had to say "hand you the what, now?" more times than in the rest of her life put together, but after a while, the kitchen smelled delicious. Also, when she was ordering Eleanor around, Tahani was somehow even hotter.

Eleanor could have sworn they had only been working for a few minutes when there was a knock at the front door. Tahani pulled a tray out of the oven. "One hour exactly! Well done, us!"

Eleanor's stomach twisted. "Yeah. Well done."

Tahani let Chidi in and introduced him to Eleanor. He was not at all what Eleanor had expected. Sure, for he was hot in this bespectacled nerdy way (and—it had to be said—surprisingly jacked), but she wouldn't have picked him out for Tahani. He stared at her elegant foyer and sweeping staircase with a look of alarm, and when his gaze landed on Eleanor, he frowned slightly, as though she was a puzzle piece he didn't know where to place.

They sat down to dinner, and to one of the most awkward silences Eleanor had ever caused. More awkward than Layla Johansen's bachelorette party, less awkward than the wardrobe malfunction at a Shell station.

On second thought, nope, those incidents were one and the same.

Time to get this over with. "Chidi. I know you're wondering why I'm third-wheeling it over here—"

"Actually," Chidi began.

Eleanor barreled on. "I need your help. I don't actually belong here. I got sent to the Good Place by mistake, like you got sent to the Bad Place, except I don't think Michael knows yet, so I need you to teach me how to be a good person so that I don't end up getting tortured forever." Tahani gave her a look. "Please?"

Chidi looked at Tahani, who nodded. He cleared his throat. "I'll be honest, I have no idea how the point system works and everything in the Good Place library just confuses the issue further. But the Bad Place... let's just say I don't want anyone to go there if they don't have to. So, yes, I'll help you."

This dude got to eternal paradise and the first thing he did was hit the library? He was a total nerd. It was perfect. "Great! Where do we start?"

It shouldn't have been possible to fit more than five books in Chidi's shoulder bag, but he pulled out no fewer than thirty. "This should be enough for an introduction. Tahani, do you have a chalkboard?"

"No, but I know who does," Tahani said. "Janet!"

The robot lady in the purple dress popped into view. "How can I help?"

"Can we have a chalkboard?"

"Absolutely," said Janet. A pristine chalkboard on a frame with wheels appeared next to the table.

For the first time, Chidi almost looked relaxed. He stood up and started to write on the board. "Let's start with Rawls."

Eleanor's enthusiasm lasted about fifteen minutes. After that, she mustered another twenty minutes of grim determination.

When she dragged her attention back to Chidi, he was _still_ talking about Rawls, who sounded like a real drag. "Rawls argues that there are three levels on which people are equal. First, all people in a society should be subject to the same laws and rules—call this legal or procedural equality. Second, those same laws and rules should be fair in how they treat individuals in different positions within society. This is _substantive_ equality. Third—"

Eleanor let her head drop onto her copy of _A Theory of Justice_. "This is hopeless. Michael told me Florence forking Nightingale is in the Bad Place! I wanted to be Florence Nightingale when I was eight! How am I supposed to be better than her?"

Tahani squeezed her hand. "Your role model was a famous nurse? That is precious!"

Eleanor grimaced. "Well..."

* * *

Eleanor's dad was sprawled on the couch with his eyes shut, the way he usually was after he'd been drinking the night before. Eleanor figured he had a headache, so she wrapped a Ziploc bag of ice cubes in a dish towel and laid it carefully on his forehead.

Her dad opened one eye and smiled at her. "Just what I needed. You're like a little Florence Nightingale!" He squeezed her hand. "You did good, kid."

After school, Eleanor checked a book about Florence Nightingale out of the library. She was reading it at the kitchen table when her dad stumbled in from the garage. "Jesus, Eleanor, do the fuckin' dishes already."

When his back was turned, Eleanor dropped the library book in the garbage, and threw the grossest dishes in after it. Florence Nightingale's patients probably weren't ungrateful turds, and if they were, the lady was a chump.

* * *

" _You threw a library book in the garbage._ "

"Chidi!" Tahani snapped. "Focus!"

"Do libraries in Arizona charge fines?" Chidi said. "Was there _any_ justice to be had here?"

"Yeah, but I told the librarian a bigger kid stole the book from me and she said I didn't have to pay for it," Eleanor said. Chidi stared. "Oh, come on. The fine was eight dollars! Books don't cost that much brand new!"

Tahani tilted her head in a _yeah, that checks out_ way. (Of course, Eleanor figured Tahani would say it like, _why yes, Eleanor, that information sounds plausible indeed!_ That was the thing about Tahani, or a thing: what she said was mostly filtered through her upper-class Britishness, but her actual choices were, well, pretty normal. If Eleanor had kissed Ryan Gosling even once, she'd tell any bartender within slurring distance about it, let alone anyone she actually wanted to impress.)

Chidi sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Maybe we should get some sleep and start again tomorrow."

"Good idea," Tahani said. "We've all had... not an _entirely_ awful couple of days"—her tiny grin did all kinds of things to Eleanor's insides—"but still, more awful than not." Chidi scrawled a note on the nearest sheet of paper, muttering something about time.

Understanding came to Eleanor like the morning sun after a drunken night out. "Holy motherforking shirtballs."

"What is it?" Tahani said.

"You didn't have a soulmate, and I was the only one who came to your party. Chidi was in the Bad Place until Michael oh-so-graciously pulled him out. And now we're all worrying that I might have to go there." Eleanor looked at Tahani and Chidi in turn. "Can either of you look me in the eyes and tell me you're a better person than Florence Nightingale?"

They both stared down at their plates. "I don't know," Tahani said quietly.

"You're not," Eleanor said. "And we're in the Bad Place right now."

* * *

_Six hours later_

223\. That was how many times Eleanor, Tahani, and Chidi (plus that monk from the Welcome Party, who was actually some guy from Florida) had been through this scenario. Michael had pretended to welcome them to the Good Place, then tried to make them torture each other. Eleanor usually figured it out, apparently, but every time, Michael just erased their memories and started all over again. Eleanor wondered how many times she, Tahani, and Chidi had stood in Michael's office in just this way, hoping that somehow, this time, things would be different.

"I'm sorry, both," Tahani said, looking down mournfully at her white sheath dress. "This dress has never failed me before."

Less mournfully, Eleanor looked in the same direction. "I can see why." Tahani put her face in her hands, and Eleanor wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, don't worry about it. You did your best. We couldn't have known."

"Really?" Chidi's voice was about an octave higher than usual. "No one told you at least _fifteen times_ that even Tahani couldn't seduce a nine-dimensional demon from literal hell?"

"As if you had a better plan," Tahani muttered.

Eleanor turned to Michael. "Look, just… please don't make us forget everything this time. We could pick _one_ memory and—"

Michael snapped his fingers.


End file.
